“Yeah, okay, probably fake. On to the next, I guess?”
Harlow sighed, did an illegal U-turn, and headed back the way they came. Foxx put in the next address, and started to annoy the heck out of him again as he tried to guide him through this dumb fuck city.
Thirty minutes later, Foxx was yelling at him. “What are you doing? Turn right!”
He slammed on the brakes, sending them jerking against the seat belts and back into their seats. He turned slowly and glared at the vampire. “Foxx, I need you to do more than to look at your phone when you are navigating! Look to the right! Tell me, why would I turn?!”
Foxx glared back and slowly looked right. The place where they were supposed to turn was blocked off about ten feet down the road. There were giant signs up saying the road was closed and to use a detour.
The vampire slowly looked back at him, eyes wide. “Well…how was I supposed to know?!”
“LOOK WITH YOUR EYES!” Harlow roared in pure, unadulterated fury.
Trying to push his anger away, he took a deep breath and followed the stupid detour. Eventually, they made it to the second location. There was at least a house, was all he could say.
They stared at the rather nice-looking house…and all the kid’s toys all over the yard. Not to mention the Mercedes in the driveway…
“I don’t think this belongs to Rodney James,” Foxx said with a sigh.
“Not unless he is living with his parents,” Harlow said with a frustrated groan.
“His information said he was nineteen, with no siblings, and parents deceased.”
“Yeah, then I’m going to go out on a limb and say the address he gave wasn’t his.”
“I’m sorry, but this is fucking stupid. Do you know how much paperwork and bureaucratic bullshit, checking and double checking, and actual in-person visits, paranormals have to go through to register on P.E.A.R.? Do you do none of that for H.R.? Can’t even bother to verify things as simple as an address? Like, each time I move, I have to update my damn card. There are fucking stronger checks to open a P.O. Box at the post office.”
Harlow winced. He did know. He’d gotten curious one time about the process and looked into it. There had been a lot. While for the H.R., there was a single form to fill out, and you just needed to bring the form and your birth certificate to your local police station. They would take your fingerprints, test your blood to prove you were human, and that was it.
“I’d like to say, yeah, they verify everything. But, no, as far as I know, there are no steps taken to verify if any of the information is real. They really only care about your name, birth date, and if you are actually human.”
“Helpful,” Foxx groused.
“It has helped with crime the last few years. Having people’s fingerprints and DNA on file is pretty fucking useful.”
“Yeah, yet there are groups trying to get that requirement removed, as it’s too invasive for the poor, defenseless humans. As if paranormals literally don’t get a full cavity search for no fucking reason, just so they can make sure the weight we listed isn’t a lie.”
Harlow choked. “Cavity search?!”
He couldn’t recall reading about that. Well, there had been vague-like notices that information would be verified, in every way possible…
“Yeah, done by some real handsy fucks,” Foxx hissed, clearly irritated just thinking about it.
Though the vampire had been irritated since before they landed.
Staring at the house, he sighed. “Want to bet all these addresses are somehow fake?”
“We still have to check them, don’t we?” Foxx asked, sounding put out.
“Yes,” Harlow grumbled.
“How did this nineteen-year-old even get into these places to be photographed? All the known victims went missing in either a club or a bar.”
“Some of them are blood clubs that don’t have their alcohol license.”
Foxx stared at him, looking baffled. “Why?”
“One theory I heard is it’s easier to find virgin blood under a certain age.” He personally thought it was bullshit.
